Christmas Miracle
by Stanner
Summary: OC is a new-ish resident at Stark Tower who doesn't necessarily get along with Bucky. When he gets drunk at Tony's Christmas party, things get awkward. First person POV.
1. Super Soldier vs Asgardian Liquor

"…then I said, 'Boom, you looking for this?'"

I gasp at Rhodey's story, as everyone else laughs appreciatively. He nods in gratitude and sips his drink, obviously pleased with the reaction. I excuse myself to find someone slightly closer to my age, if not by much.

Wanda catches my eye from across the room and smiles at me. I smile back, but decide against hanging out with her; she looks awfully comfortable with Vision. They have been spending a lot of time together. I wonder what Pietro would've thought. My stomach twists itself into a knot as I remember him. I shake my head, feeling guilty at dismissing the thought. But this is Tony's Christmas party. At the Avengers Tower. Time to have fun, and be merry. I still haven't gotten used to running in these circles. It's awesome, though.

Speaking of being merry, Thor is entertaining Steve and Sam with war stories from Asgard. That seems a little too male-dominated a corner for me. I scan the room for Nat but give up almost instantly as I assume Clint must be missing as well. I shudder and struggle to avoid conjuring up a mental image of what they could be up to.

Just as I make up my mind to sit alone at the bar with my Coke, I spot Bucky sitting there already with five empty shot glasses on the counter in front of him, and a sixth at his mouth. He tosses it back and smacks it down with the others. I hang around Rhodey's crowd for a bit, watching him. Bucky, I mean.

He's the only person in the tower I haven't gotten along with. Everyone else has taken me under their individual wings because of how much younger than them I am, as they keep reminding me. I didn't think I'd feel like such a toddler at 21 but oh well. It hasn't been that bad, though. They've all kind of eased into letting me do things on my own, and definitely, own up to any mistakes I make. I'm almost taken completely seriously. Yay.

But Bucky… I feel kind of weird calling him that. James hasn't spoken much to me since I got here. I know about his past. Steve and Nat sat with me when they showed me his file. I've seen everybody's files, but his was the only one, except Nat's which she sat and explained to me, I had to read accompanied. I guess they thought it'd be too much for me to handle or something. They were only half right.

On the one hand, as disturbing and traumatic as his experiences were, I understood them. But when I actually saw him for the first time, everything in the file jumped straight in front of my eyes and I suddenly couldn't believe anyone would do all those things to someone like him.

Well, someone who looked like him. I mean… yeah okay. He's really cute. Sue me. Maybe I have a thing for damaged men… oh god, I hope it's not a Florence Nightingale type complex.

Anyway, I've tried to reach out to him and get to know him, as we're all part of a team here, but he wants nothing to do with me. It's one thing to be aloof, but he's just… mean, I guess. He's not particularly nice to anybody, except Steve obviously, but there's a special amount of disdain he musters up just for me, which makes me feel all tingly and special. Not.

So me being me, what with my abundance of patience, I've given up trying to talk to him outside of work or unless one of the others needs a message delivered down the grapevine. I think the most I've said to him in the past month was "Tony wants to check out your arm again." Everyone wants to check out his arm. Even I want to check out his arm… but there's no point in me thinking that way because he barely tolerates my existence. And I can't keep being nice to him, so I'm just going to stay out of his way. Like now.

Okay, he's gotten up. Kind of stumbling, which catches Steve's eye. He and Sam immediately step over to steer him towards his room, but he's determined to fight them off. Uh oh… I hope there isn't going to be a situation. I glance at Tony, who throws a panicked glance at the new sculpture he forked out a fortune for, against Pepper's orders advice. That thing won't stand a chance if fists start flying.

"Get OFF me, Steve! I… I… hello is everyone listening? So I know I've been an asshole to-" James' eyes start roving around the room, seeking someone out. They land on me, and his gaze looks like it's been locked on a target. What the hell? Is he going to apologise to me for his behaviour in front of everyone?

"-there she is! And I just want everybody to know that… it's not because I'm an asshole. Okay? I LOVE her, alright? I l -excuse me- love her. So that's why. That's it," he smiles. "Enjoy the party! Tonyyy-" he trails off, pointing at him. Sam and Steve are staring at me, as are most of the people here. The Christmas cheer has been very obviously dampened. I swallow and stare resolutely back at the two of them trying to telepathically tell them to get me out of this absolute shitty situation.

"I think our brother James here has imbibed far too much than is advisable for one evening!" Thor's voice reverberates throughout the crowd. "On Asgard, he would be laughed out of the festivities by now," he chuckles and takes a sip of his own drink. "Who here will dare to take on the God of thunder to determine the champion of drinkers?" There's silence for a second, then cheers as a couple of unsuspecting men surge towards Thor and the bar, while Steve and Sam motion for me to come with them.

I slide away and feel someone behind me before I lose myself in a trance…

I'm in an unfamiliar room, lying on a bed. And I'm kissing someone. Well, this is new. Who on earth is this on top of me? I open my eyes but it's too dark to make out (haha) who it is. Oh god, what if it's someone I don't even know? I suddenly feel really icky and put both my hands on the guy's shoulders and gently push him upwards. He squints down at me, confused. "What's wrong?"

Um.

What's wrong is that it's James.


	2. You Guys Are Being Weird

I blink; I'm back at the Tower.

"You alright?" Steve asks, his hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah…" I respond, a bit dazed. Without thinking, my fingers fly to my mouth to feel my lips. What the hell just happened?

"Okay," he looks at me uncertainly. "Me and Sam have left Buck in his room. If you want to hide out here, we'll cover for you. And besides… it's a little past your bedtime don't you think?" He chuckles.

I smile cheekily at him. "Haha. I'll stay here, thank you. Not that parties are my thing anyway but now that your friend has drawn unnecessary attention towards me, I don't think I'll be going back out there."

"Yeah about that," Steve starts. "Actually, you know what? It's none of my business," he decides.

"Whoa, whoa. What?"

"Why don't the two of you talk it out?" He pats me on the shoulder, before walking back towards the party.

I silently scream and mime punching the wall. What the hell just- WANDA. It suddenly hits me. The weird vision/trance thing that I had was Wanda! But why would she show me that? Must be her idea of a joke after what happened with James.

And him… what an idiot. Embarrassing the hell out of both of us, only he'll be lucky enough to not remember it tomorrow. Well, the headache should be punishment enough. I suddenly feel a strong surge of intense dislike for the man. For a second, I consider banging on his door to aggravate his headache as payback for embarrassing me, but decide against it.

I should check on him, though…

Where did that thought come from? I shake my head in an attempt to clear it, but find myself gently pushing open James' door. I can't see him in there. Maybe he's puking his guts out? I tentatively take a step forward into his room, and as my eyes adjust to the darkness, I realise that his bed is the one we were making out on in my trance. I make a mental note to ask Wanda what on earth she was thinking when she put that in my head when the bathroom door opens and James staggers out. He doesn't see me so I feel the need to announce my presence.

"Feeling better?"

His head snaps up. "Oh god… the first thing I've gotta hear after I'm done throwing up about five months' of food is you being all chirpy? What the hell are you doing in here anyway? Get out. I want to sleep."

I fight the urge to punch him in the neck. "I was just checking on you. Me and you are the only ones going to bed so..."

He lies down on top of his bed, fully dressed and with his shoes on, resting his right arm over his eyes. "Great, so I have the same bedtime as a 12-year-old. Now scram."

My jaw clenches of its own accord, as I turn around and leave the room. With the door open.  
When I get to the kitchen the next morning, Steve is the only one there. He smiles at me over his mug.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Better than everyone else, clearly. Maybe they should stick to Coke next time too." I set about fixing my breakfast. Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, "You know, your friend Barnes is kind of an ass. I mean no disrespect. I know what he's been through and all. He seems distant at best around the others, but me he just… I don't know. Intensely dislikes for some reason," I glance up at Steve. "What's up with that?"

He shrugs somewhat apologetically. "Want me to talk to him for you? Or would you prefer to do it yourself?"

I roll my eyes. "I checked on him last night after you guys left him in his room. Ungrateful," I shook my head.

"Who's ungrateful?"

Me and Steve both turn and see Wanda opening the fridge curiously. "We are out of eggs again…? Who are we going to send to make a run-"

"Why don't we go?" I interrupt. "I have to talk to you about something anyway," I grit my teeth pointedly.  
Wanda smiles knowingly but feigns innocence. "Let me just get my coat and shoes."

Steve raises an eyebrow at me quizzically. "Everything okay?"

I nod and smile at him. "Yeah. You need anything while we're out?"

He drains his mug, setting it down in the sink and shakes his head. "Thanks."

"Okay then, I'm gonna go. See you in a bit. Text me or Wanda if anyone else needs something before we're back."

When I get downstairs, I see Wanda's already waiting for me. "My god, don't you look smug. Get outside right now!"

Once we're out, the cold hits our faces and I feel like my skin might crack. I huddle into my scarf as Wanda does the same. We begin our walk to the store.

"So I'll just cut to the chase; what the hell was that trance you put me in last night? I mean why, why would you do that? You know I can't stand him but more so, he absolutely hates me. Was that just supposed to be a joke because of the spectacle he made of himself last night?" Everything comes out in a rush.

"Obviously, yes! You think he was saying that for nothing? This whole mean thing he does with you…" she shakes her head. "It's not real! He likes you - well okay, he loves you. It's all pretend. That is why I showed you the vision. It's going to happen," she grins at me. "Just wait."

"Wanda," I mock-lament. "Come on, please be serious. What do you mean, it's going to happen? He doesn't really like me. Does he?" I add, accidentally injecting a hint too much hopefulness in the question.

She just smiles and steps ahead of me to hold open the door to the deli. We both enter, relieved to be surrounded by warmth and the smell of food. For a few minutes, we set about filling up our baskets in silence. I check my phone for any missed texts from the others, but nothing. The cashier rings up our purchases and we leave the store.

"Are we just going to let my question hang in the balance?" I venture. Why am I being so daring all of a sudden? I don't care if he likes me! And why would he? It seems the most unlikely thing in the world.

"Look, I don't want to spoil anything. Just talk to him yourself and see. He might say something and not be mean this time. You should mention last night. Maybe he has forgotten by now, but if you remind him you can ask for an explanation, yes?"

I sigh. "Yeah, I guess."

Wanda looks down at me, a knowing smile on her face. "And what about you? Do you like him?"

Despite the cold, I can feel my cheeks heat up. "He's an ass. I don't like him."

"But you think he is cute."

My head snaps upwards. "Wanda…" I warn. "You said you wouldn't."

She shakes her head and puts her free arm around me, squeezing my shoulders. "I'm sorry. I didn't! Not on purpose anyway. Your thoughts are just… a little bit loud. Especially when they're about him. So it is hard to ignore."

"Well, I'm sorry about that," I blush. "I'll try to keep it down."


	3. Forget About Him

A/N: Hey guys, thanks a ton for reviewing and actually reading this. I didn't think it'd get anywhere! I'm being pretty slow with the progression and I really hope it doesn't fall flat on its face towards the end. Thanks again for wanting more! :)

* * *

Back at the Tower, Nat and Clint are in the kitchen gazing at each other. We clear our throats, and they turn to smile at us. Clint gets up to help me with the rest of the groceries, while Wanda and Nat get to the eggs.

"So, I hear we missed a little show last night huh?" Clint asks me, trying very obviously to hide a smile.

I fail at hiding mine. "Clearly, you had something better to do," I glance over to give Nat a knowing look but she smacks my shoulder playfully with a spatula.

"Steve told us," they explain. "We think it's about damn time," Clint nods.

"What? Why?"

"Oh, you'll figure it out. You didn't get into Tony's gifted program for being an idiot now, did you?" He ruffles my hair slightly.

They all get into making breakfast for themselves, and I decide to slip away to see if James is awake. Although this might not be the best time to see if he wants to talk. First of all, he'll probably be hungover, and who knows what Asgardian liquor will do to a guy. Second, there are just way too many people around right now. And since they all seem to know something, it'll be ten times more awkward with them listening in.

Either way, I make my way back to my room and bump into Sam, who says nothing but grins and wiggles his eyebrows at me. For the love of-

Music suddenly explodes through the tower as Tony spots me; it's Here Comes the Bride. He strides over and grabs my hand, attempting to waltz with me. He spins me around and unexpectedly lets go of my hand, just as I think _what the hell I'M GOING TO FALL THERE GO MY WRISTS ALL THAT MONEY SPENT ON BRACES FOR NOTHING OH NO NOT ON MY ELBOW_ \- but my thoughts are interrupted when I am caught by James.

He has a hold of my upper arms, with me leaning towards him like the tower of Pisa. I dare to look up at him, and there's something curious about his expression. Without stopping to stare at him longer, considering how everyone behind me is watching us with bated breath and the music is still blaring, I regain my footing, and he releases my arms as quickly as he caught me.

"Thanks." My eyes cast very deliberately downwards, I walk as normally as I can back to my room. As soon as I'm in, I shut the door and bang my head on it twice.

Why is my heart beating so damn fast? What is wrong with me, honestly? Well in my defence, I've never fallen and gotten caught by a hot guy before. It was totally one of those "my hero!" batting-my-eyelashes moments.

Oh, why are there so many people in the tower? I need a second to ask James about last night without the others staring at us, waiting for the tension to break.

 _I know of one way I'd like it to break…_

Stop it! I can't think like this. He's way older than me- like really, really old. And he's a super-soldier and used to be in the army and he's really intimidating but most importantly, he hates me. So why am I wasting my time with this stupid little crush? I shake my head, both in an attempt to clear it and to get rid of the blush creeping up my neck.

Okay, that's it. I'm spending the rest of the day in here. I'll work out a bit, and catch up on Buffy - girl's got some moves I can use.

Clad in my workout gear, I hit the treadmill in my room already mentally planning the rest of my routine and set Buffy up on my laptop. I can't concentrate, though… my mind keeps wandering over to James' face when he was holding me. What was that face?! For an infinitesimal moment, he didn't look like he hated me.

Maybe he doesn't though. I mean the others are all acting really weird about his revelation last night. On the one hand, they could be making fun of the situation but on the other, they all obviously know something. Wanda definitely knows something. So does Steve, come to think of it. _And there's that vision where we were making out…_

What if he actually does like me? But he's being an asshole because I'm too young for him. Is that why he fixates on my age so often, calling me 12 and bugging me about my 'bedtime'? _Because he wants to remind himself of the fact and that it would be wrong to like me_.

But doesn't that sound kind of like something out of a (gross) romance novel? Not to mention, it's a kindergarten approach to liking someone. Being mean to them. I let out a long sigh I've been holding in.

* * *

It's been hours since I've been lounging around in here, giving up on working out seriously pretty quickly. _I'll just have to talk to him soon and straighten this out. So I can stop thinking about him in this capacity once and for all_. With that thought, I hop off my bed where I've been scrolling through fanfiction of all of us, put my laptop on standby, and get ready to take a shower.

In half an hour, I step out of the steamy bathroom in my robe, my hair wrapped in a towel. There's nothing like being clean. I shaved my legs and used my pore strips so my nose is shiny, but in a good way. Because getting dressed is not my favourite thing to do after a shower, I collapse backwards on my bed to be lazy some more- and spot a piece of paper seemingly slipped under my door. _Would he_ …? No way. That's so childish, passing notes. I probably dropped it earlier or something. _Then why has my heartbeat suddenly accelerated?_

I close my eyes to avoid looking at the paper, but the thought that I don't know what's on it keeps plaguing me until I give in to pick it up.

 _Meet me in my room at 10._

 _-B_


	4. Secret Little Rendezvous

**A/N:** If anything in here is cringey (which I'm sure it will be), I'm so sorry! [insert sheepish smile]

* * *

 _B? B?! B as in Bucky?_

My heart is totally beating in my ears and my eyes have shifted focus. Is this because of the way he was looking at me when he caught me? Did Steve say something to him? He did offer to. Maybe he did. Oh my god, oh my god. What do I do?

 _Meet him, you idiot. Ball's in your court_.

I scramble over to my bedside table to check the time on my phone- it's 8:45. Okay, now the impatience is killing me. How am I supposed to pass the time until then? What do-

"Hey- oh sorry!"

"Wanda, it's alright. Come back!" I yell.

She turns around and comes into my room, shutting the door behind herself. "Why are you not dressed?"

I make a face. "There's no hurry. I like lounging around in this when I'm done showering. So, what's up?"

"What's this?" She picks up James' note from next to my hand. Her eyes widen slightly. "Are you going to see him?"

I groan and fall back onto my pillows, hands covering my face. "I guess!"

"That's good! Then you can finally talk about what happened. And I'll try to make sure nobody interrupts. Even though… we all have an idea about what's going to happen," she grins innocently at me.

Narrowing my eyes at her, I say, "Of course you do. I've been getting funny looks from everyone all day. And you, with your little vision- not helping."

"Aw," Wanda leans forward and gives me a hug. "It will be okay, really. I've heard his thoughts as well, so trust me there is nothing to be worried about. And if he hurts you," she pulls away, "you tell me and I will break him," she promises solemnly. "But I don't think I will have to do that. The poor man is already quite broken. I think you will be good for him."

Not knowing what to say, I smile at her. "Thanks, Wanda."

She hugs me again and drops the note on my lap, leaving my room with a smile on her face. I squirm, thinking about James. I check my phone again- 9:00. Ugh.

Well, I'd better get dressed at least. Not trying too hard. In fact, I'll look about as sloppy as usual. Maybe even his level of sloppy. I can't grow a beard, though, but the clothes I can get down.

* * *

It's somehow 9:50 and I can't take it anymore. Gingerly opening my door, I peek my head out to assess the situation outside. I frown as I realise how no one except Wanda has checked on me the whole day. They didn't even ask if I was hungry or not. Which I discover only now, that I am. Opportune moment for my body to fail me. It better not rumble while I'm talking to James. I'll look even more like a kid since I haven't had a snack all day.

I slip through my door, shutting it quietly behind me. In a moment of panic, I feel my pocket to make sure the note is in there. As proof that I didn't come bugging him for no reason.

It's surprisingly quiet out here; somewhere I can hear Thor's voice booming and Clint calling him out on whatever he's said now. Must mean everyone's busy. Except James apparently. I am now just in time for our little rendezvous.

Standing in front of James' door, palms sweaty, heartbeat insanely fast. Do I knock? Or just go in? What if he's forgotten? What if he isn't in there? _What if it's a trick by the others to get us to talk?_ Before I can decide what to do next, the door swings open and my stomach scrunches itself into a knot.

"Uh, what are you doing here?"

My mind has gone completely blank, so I pull the note out from my pocket and show it to him, cursing myself for having shaky hands and careful to not get it too close in case he snatches it away.

"Is this you?"

He squints at the note momentarily, then gives me an annoyed look. "Are you forgetting there's another B in the Tower?"

It takes me a second to process, before I roll my eyes and sarcastically ask, "Why would Dr. Banner want me to meet him secretly in his room at 10?"

"Why would _I_ want you to meet me secretly in _my_ room at 10?" he counters my quip.

Just as I'm about to say touché, I blurt out, "Oh I don't know… maybe to confess your undying love for me again. Like you did last night in front of everyone, remember?"

He looks about as shocked as if I'd just slapped him. Well, can't say I blame him; I've never been that in-your-face before. His mouth opens and closes quickly, like a fish. _A very cute fish… with a really cute mouth._

I stare at him resolutely and cock my head. "I'm just sad I don't have proof. But I'm sure if I ask around, someone will have filmed it. Who doesn't like filming drunk people making fools of themselves? Especially when they're declaring their love for someone they actually hate?"

He sighs. "Look, I…"

Someone's laughing somewhere, and we both try to follow the sound with our eyes. When I turn back around, he's staring at me.

"Alright come in," he holds his door open.

I tentatively step in. In the dim lamplight, I re-confirm that this is indeed the bed we were making out on. I swallow, furious at myself for blushing. James shuts the door behind us. Wait a minute-

"Um, how'd you know I was outside? I didn't knock or anything. And if you didn't write the note, then who did?"

He turns to pull something out from between the pages of a book on his bedside table. It looks like my note. He holds it up in front of me. It _is_ a note, exactly like mine.

"I wanted to see what you wanted," he shrugs. "And why you'd picked such a childish way to get my attention.

"I gasp. "I did _not_ write that! Although…" I take it from his hand and squint at it. "Why the hell does it look like my handwriting?"

"Show me yours," he holds out his hand for my note. I drop it in his hand and he stares at it. "Stark's got something to do with this, that's for sure."

My head snaps up. "No way… they forged notes from us to each other?"

James chuckles at my indignant expression. I've never heard him remotely close to laughing before. It's a sound I want to hear every day from now on.

I blink. _Stop it_.

"They wanted us to talk to each other. Well…" he shuffles his feet awkwardly.

"Why do you hate me?" _D_ _o you have no control over your mouth?_

He looks straight into my eyes, then swallows before speaking. "I don't."

I glance at his neck, covered in stubble, but quickly switch back to intense and bordering-on-creepy eye contact instead. After a pause, he continues, "But I'm not going to insult your intelligence by asking why you think that. I've seen a video of my behaviour last night. And I will repeat, that I have been an asshole to you. But also that it's not because I'm an asshole. Well, I'm not," he hesitates, " _not_ an asshole either. But what I meant was, the reason I was behaving that way towards you isn't because of my personality. It's because…"

"You love me?" I venture. "Yeah, I've heard."

I think he can hear my heartbeat. Neither of us has ever been in the company of the other for this long, without sparring at least.

"Well, now you'll see," he says in a low voice, as he takes a step forward, closing the distance between us and kissing me.


	5. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

**A/N:** This update is quite short, I had to edit heavily to avoid rambling on. It's the last one, so thank you guys so much for reading this unwieldy little piece. :)

* * *

He pulls away almost instantly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he shakes his head and steps back.

Every part of me feels like it's been lit on fire. My brain is cloudy, shrouded in a giddy haze, hence the following articulate response; "What… _what_?"

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. I want to do the same, but I need an explanation first.

"I thought I could get away with doing that, but I think it just came across as too pushy? I'm sorry. It's just, your presence, especially here in my room, is... overwhelming," he pauses. "My emotions got the better of me."

I shake my head, a little too frantically. "It's alright."

His expression softens and my heart flutters involuntarily. He holds out his hand and without thinking, I take it. It's strong and comforting and reassuring and sexy at the same time, don't ask me how. He leads me over to the edge of his bed and we both sit down.

"I don't really know where to start with everything I want to say," he admits. "But I'm going to try to piece my thoughts together, because I owe you that."

I look down. We're still holding hands.

"I think you're smart," he stares into my eyes intently, "and funny, and selfless and more than capable of handling your duties and exceeding everyone's expectations."

 _Zoning in on my insecurities and knowing exactly what to say. Do I love him? Yes._

"So you don't think I'm immature, or loud and chirpy, or generally irritating?"

The corners of his mouth turn up slightly. "You're a bit chirpy sometimes, but it's cute. And no, you're not annoying at all." His expression suddenly grows solemn and he sighs, then continues.

"The reason I was drinking so much at Tony's party was because it was Christmas, a time when everyone's supposed to be happy and I was anything but. Plus, I haven't had a real drink in a while and I know I can't get drunk on the regular stuff, but just then I felt like I was breaking out of shackles, so I kept going." His eyes are unfocused, he speaks as if he's in a daze.

"I'm far from okay. I need time to adjust to my new life, and everything around me. The whole time being burdened by all this guilt from knowing what I've done. I know I'm free now, I'm not the Winter Soldier anymore, but I'm not quite Bucky either." He inhales deeply.

"I haven't been fair to you. And I'm so sorry for not being fair to you now, either."

I'm confused. "What do you mean?"

"You're so young, and I'm almost 100. Maybe not physically," he amends.

 _I'll say._

"But I am. Even before I was the Soldier, I was _a_ soldier. I've seen and done too much to burden you with, when you could be with anyone else much better for you, someone who won't wake up screaming or go into random fits of rage and put you in immediate danger. I can't expect you to love me, so I tried to stop both of us from falling into that trap by treating you how I have. Obviously, it didn't work with me," he chuckles darkly.

"Well, it didn't work with _me_ either," I state firmly, before grabbing his face and kissing him. Tears that I hadn't noticed earlier spill over onto both our faces, as we awkwardly and clumsily figure out what we're doing. My hands snake up towards his hair of their own accord, and I (finally) run my fingers through it. His right hand is cupping the back of my neck, radiating heat throughout my body, while his metal hand is cold against my back.

He pulls away to mutter, "So I take it you're throwing caution to the wind?"

I rest my forehead against his. "You can take your time figuring out who you are now; I'm young enough to say I've got time on my side so I'll be right alongside you. Look, you're not the Soldier anymore, and you say you're not quite Bucky either. All I want you to know is that I will be with you while you rediscover yourself." I lean in just as he starts to, but stop at the last second to add, "Oh and, I think I love you too, Bucky."

He scrunches his eyebrows. "It's Bucky now?"

"Well, that's what your friends call you and up until a while ago, we sort of forced ourselves to hate each other. So I didn't think it'd be right to call you that."

He blinks at me, then shrugs and leans in excruciatingly slowly to kiss the corner of my jaw. "It's just as well. But I thought it was hot when you called me James."


End file.
